


If The Darkest Hour Comes

by MsDamia, tiziano



Series: There Is Gonna Be A Flame [3]
Category: Fantastic Four (Movieverse), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action, BAMF Darcy, BAMF Pepper, Coulson being Coulson, Darcy may or may not die, Drama, F/M, Feisty Jane, Friendship, Jane is still mad at Coulson, Romance, Sarcasm, The Ninja Incidents, Tits before Dicks, Tragedy, comedic relief, super science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsDamia/pseuds/MsDamia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiziano/pseuds/tiziano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She should be screaming in fear. It’s what most people would be doing at this juncture. Instead she imagines this is what flying must feel like and she closes her eyes and smiles. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to die afraid.</p><p>The continued story of Darcy and Coulson!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Passion And The Pain Are Going To Keep Us Alive Someday (Prologue)

She lifted her arms above her head, splaying her fingers against the stars as her hair whipped around her. She should be screaming in fear. It’s what most people would be doing at this juncture. Instead she imagines this is what flying must feel like and she closes her eyes and smiles.

Because if she was going to die, she wasn’t going to die afraid. 

Lightning cracked across the a cloudless sky and the smile painted on red, red lips wavered just a bit before her ribs were crushed by guns of steel and she felt like her lungs were trying to press out of her chest. On the upside her life expectancy had just tripled, at the very least.

Thor landed, calling his team in for help, the curvy brunette office admin limp in his arms, her breathing more of a wheeze than a sigh. His bright blues caught her darker blues and she smiled again, like she’d known all along he’d be there to catch her. She wanted to tell him not to worry so much, the pensive cast to his eyes was gonna ruin his Barbie Doll image. She couldn’t seem to talk, though. 

“I need a medic!” The Norse god of lightning could bellow across a packed bar at happy hour without effort. The medics rushed forward. 

“Darcy? Can you understand me?” The Black Widow was there, shoving through the crowd while the rest of the team dealt with Doom. 

“Yeah” The brunette’s eyes fluttered and there was more wetness in her mouth than there should have been. There was also a coppery tang, never a good sign. One did not ignore Natasha when she was demanding answers, though, so she focused on the statuesque redhead. 

 

“I’m saving my reports so you can turn them in for me.” Natasha informed the younger woman, easily stepping around the medics as they arrived and started strapping the younger woman onto a gurney. 

“The best.” Darcy’s words were cut off as the medics placed a mask over her mouth and nose, calling in the pneumothorax and loading her into the ambulance. 

Hours later, after the fallout of the shenanigans of one Doctor Von doom, the Avengers were huddled around the Stark living rooms. They weren’t allowed to visit Lewis yet, so instead they dealt with things the best way they knew how. 

Tony had a tumbler of very old scotch in his hand, refilled for the third time now. Bruce was sitting across the table from the billionaire, almost mirror image, but with tea in hand. Thor sat quietly, his face drawn with whatever dark thoughts had invaded his thoughts. Clint and Natasha were systematically cleaning the weapons they had used in battle, carefully going over each and every one for damage. Then there was Steve, sitting on the kitchen counter and drawing a young woman with wild curls and a dismissive sneer. A woman who had pulled her tazer on Doom when he’d had the temerity to attempt to use her as a hostage. She’d been thrown from the top of a building for her effort. It was impressive as hell. 

“Sir, Ms. Lewis has just been checked by her doctor. It appears she is stable and will likely be moved out of ICU in the morning.” JARVIS informed Tony, his voice holding just a hint of relief. The AI was as fond of Darcy as everyone else was. 

“And visitors?” Tony asked, draining his tumbler once more. 

“Agent Coulson managed to find his way into her room moments after her doctor left.” JARVIS’ voice was now just this side of surprised. He was very good at vocal inflection for all he didn’t actually have vocal chords. 

“Very enterprising of him.” Tony agreed, a hint of a smile on his face as the man stood up to refill his glass. 

Darcy had been rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. Jane had heard the news, went straight to the hospital, and then declared herself the only living relative as well as the younger woman’s medical power of attorney. The truth to those statements were questionable at best, but the petite scientist had managed to bully the hospital staff into doing her bidding. That was all that really mattered. 

It had taken almost half an hour for Phil to clean up things enough so he could head to the hospital. Sadly for Phil, Jane had firmly ensconced herself by that point and refused to acknowledge the agent’s existence. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, it was just that she was told one visitor and she wasn’t giving up her spot. The diminutive scientist might have mentioned something about Phil deserving to wait this time, as well. 

JARVIS, of course, was happily monitoring the situation in case things got too out of hand and relaying all information to Tony at the tower. He had also taken the liberty of keeping an eye on the security camera’s, news feeds, and setting all of Darcy’s favorite programs to record so she could watch them during her internment.


	2. Chapter 1: Hear It Calling Like A Siren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five Months Earlier.

_Five Months Earlier_

“Don’t even think about it.” Darcy’s voice stalled Phil’s hand as it raised to move his picture. Where he’d planned on moving it to was uncertain. Possibly just away. It had been two months since they had been reunited and Darcy refused to remove the shrine she’d apparently created for him. With coffee instead of candles. He turned blue eyes and a “who, me?” look on the younger woman as she cocked an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“It _is_ kind of creepy at this point.” Steve mentioned, sipping at his own coffee. It was hard not to take Phil’s side on this front. Seeing the huge picture (the one they’d used at his memorial service) in the corner every morning, staring out across the room because it was taken straight on and the pictures eyes followed you … yeah it was odd now. Because you couldn’t be sure if it was the picture or if the agent really was there. 

“It’s not creepy, it’s homey.” Darcy corrected, reaching over punching Steve in the shoulder. She didn’t punch lightly, either, he was Captain America, he could handle the full force of her ire when it was in flesh form. Speaking of flesh forms “Is Tony still doing mad science on the mad spy?” 

“That’s … not innuendo?” the Captain was looking toward the Agent for clarification. Phil cocked a single eyebrow and pinched his lips into a mocking frown. 

“Of course it’s innuendo, big boy, you should really know this by now.” Darcy clarified, leaning up to place a loudly smacking kiss on Phil’s cheek. 

“I’m starting to question worshipping you my entire life.” Phil commented, his voice dry. 

“Don’t listen to him Steve, he’s wearing your boxers even as we speak.” Darcy assured the blond, smiling wickedly as the tall man blinked and worked out that statement in his head. It didn’t take long for a blush to stain his cheeks.

“It’s true.” Phil agreed easily, looking fondly down into Darcy’s mischievous smile. He gave into the urge to lean down and press a kiss to her smiling lips. He couldn’t get enough of her lips. The painted red and pulled wide in wicked grins and warm laughter. Pursed with annoyance, pressed thin when crossed, lifted in an innocent bow when at her most devious… his eyes strayed to her lips more than any other part of her anatomy. 

“I’m not drunk enough to handle this much PDA.” Tony announced with disgust, turning to leave the kitchen only to have an unimpressed Pepper shove him back into room. 

“You’re sober.” The redhead reminded him, opening the fridge to pull out the orange juice. 

“My point exactly!” Tony shouted, giving Phil a dirty look. “I didn’t think this whole Darcy with boys thing through well enough before we rescued you, Agent” 

“You still would have rescued him.” Darcy reminded the genius, walking over to pop up on her toes and press a kiss to the older man’s cheek. He leaned down a bit to make it easier on her, but he kept his gaze on Phil. 

“Agent I would appreciate it if you kept the public rooms at a PG setting.” Tony went on, staring at the mildly amused agent. Darcy snorted. 

“Not if I can help it.” She smiled wickedly as Tony swatted his hands at her, driving her away from him. 

“Alright minions, I have shit to do.” The brunette bounced back over to Phil and pressed her lips to his before bounding out of the room. 

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to seeing her like that.” Steve commented, a warm smile on his face and blue eyes on the door. 

“I’m not her minion.” Tony informed Pepper, the other woman cocked an eyebrow at him, nibbling on toast and various stock reports running on her tablet. 

“You don’t really have a choice.” Phil told Steve after a moment of contemplation, his eyes also on the doorway. He’d heard, of course, all about Darcy’s antics during his time away. She’d tazed Nick Fury for him. Twice. She’d set up a shrine for him and poured him a cup of coffee every morning. She’d forgotten to smile. She’d adopted his two favorite charges and Tony. She’d wormed her way into the heart of Pepper Potts, a woman not known for suffering fools. Then, rather than getting over her broken heart, she’d decided the man she loved wasn’t dead and then came and found him. She was a hell of a woman.

“Damned skippy, Agent.” Tony replied, eyes now a bit harder as he gazed at the other man. Phil might have been his friend first, but there was more of a bond with Darcy. Not just because of her rack, either. Though it certainly helped, as far as nice views went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while for this one, guys. I went to Atlanta for Dragon*Con (it's a yearly trek from the west coast) and was totally distracted!! On the plus side I met some amazing people and every time I rushed past the Walking Dead corner Scott Wilson stopped me to give me a hug. It's awesome working Walk of Fame.


	3. Chapter 2: Underneath The Echoes, Buried In The Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Natasha needs a moment or three.

Natasha stood, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed under her breasts. She hadn’t changed position in over half an hour as she watched from the viewing platform above the gym. The man below her with the metal arm tore into the punching bags with a ferocity few could match. His rage, his grace, the planes of his face … she drank it in with her eyes and let it fill a part of her which had been empty for a very long time. 

The redhead ignored the people who came and quickly left, unnerved by her silent vigil. It was why a few people in IT were half positive she was an android, the silent stillness of hers. If they could only imagine the training one underwent with Red Door, though, they wouldn’t question her stillness. They would question her sanity. The door behind her opened and slightly uneven steps came toward her and stopped directly beside her. Coulson. 

“He’s progressing well.” The Agent, one of the few she trusted almost implicitly, spoke with a pleasant lilt to his voice. 

“And yet his memory is still fractured.” She responded, her voice a cold snap in the stillness of the room. 

“We had to start with his earliest memories and work forward, Natasha. We needed a solid base to build from or we risk him losing everything.” Phil continued, still pleasant as always. It amused the woman when he flustered others, but at the moment it made her want to take one of her shiny, pretty knives and thrust it into his arm. Only his arm, though, after all she liked him and Darcy would be very upset with her. Besides, he was right and she knew it. 

“I dislike this waiting and watching.” Natasha informed him, turning on a heel and striding out of the room. It was funny, because she excelled at watching and waiting and usually had no problem doing so. This, though, this made her impatient. This man, standing in the same building as her. She couldn’t touch him, couldn’t talk to him. It was deemed dangerous and out of bounds with his treatment regimen. Steve, though, Steve could walk up and talk to him about baseball or growing up. He could talk to him about anything he wanted. Steve who could share good memories, the good and kind Captain America. Natasha could only share pain and anger and stolen, beautiful moments amidst ugly years. The brutal, unforgiving Black Widow. 

“Agent Romanov,” another Agent nodded to her and Natasha said nothing as she strode past, making her way down to command. She needed to hit something, but the punching bags wouldn’t be good enough. She needed to make something scream out the pain she was feeling. She wanted someone begging her to make their pain end as she could not afford to do. She wanted to beat her agony into another living being and tell them they were weak for voicing that pain. She needed to feel powerful and strong and the only way she was going to be able to do was to leave for a little while. 

The redhead stalked through the door which slid open at command, her face a blank mask. Maria Hill took one look at the other woman, already dressed in her black catsuit and turned to speak quietly with one of her aids. The Deputy Director had been expecting this a few days ago. Romanov was strong, though, tough enough to hold out against her own internal demons. Still, Maria knew her people. 

“Agent Romanov head to Briefing Room Bravo, you will need to be wheels up in two hours.” Agent Hill’s no nonsense voice cut across the din of the room and Agent Romanov’s eyes caught the other woman’s for a long, assessing moment before she nodded and headed to the back of the room for her orders. As Natasha passed the wiry woman she gave her a brief nod which was quickly returned. It was all the two women would do to acknowledge their understanding of one another. They had fought too hard and come too far in SHIELD to ever admit to any kind of weakness, but they understood each other in a way most others never could. 

Two hours later Natasha was in a quinjet, two small bags tucked away in the otherwise empty plane as she flew to her new mission. She would be captured and allow the big, strong men to beat her while admitting to their entire operation. After she was satisfied with the information she would get free and snap their necks one by one before coming in for her debriefing. She might even get to blow the entire installation if she was lucky. This was just what she needed. 

Later that night while everyone was gathered around the kitchen eating takeout and Natasha was missing Phil and Clint caught each other’s eyes, gazing at each other for a few long seconds. They knew the redhead. They knew her moods and they understood what condition she was likely to come back to them in after whatever mission she’d gone on was over. As always there was a silent promise to keep her safe from herself while she was with them. They’d been each other’s only family for far too long to let her self destruct at this point, not with something good close to being within her grasp. 

“Where’s your head at?” Darcy tucked an arm around Phil’s back and pressed herself into his side, looking up at him inquisitively. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead and tucked her in tighter to his side, looking back over to Clint without saying a word. Darcy’s eyes traced to the marksman and instantly clicked to the lack of Natasha. She didn’t understand what was going on, but she understand the silent resignation in the other man’s eyes before he pasted on a mask of happiness and joined in conversation with Jane and Bruce.


	4. Chapter 3: We've Both Got A Million Bad Habits To Kick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Darcy time. He pretends he doesn't care about anything or anyone and she pretends to believe him because otherwise there are uncomfortable feels.

“I didn’t know you were that big a fan.” Darcy commented as the music instantly died. Tony turned to give her a look, on eyebrow cocked as though she should know better.

“JARVIS, music please.” He called, going back to the three dimensional drawing in front of him. It was a mechanical arm and there was only one person who might need a weaponized mechanical arm in the near(ish) future. The music turned back on, JARVIS was Tony’s first after all, but it was at a much lower volume this time. 

“I figured this was about a redhead.” Darcy smiled, stepping forward to join him on the table he had decided to use as a chair today. He stayed focused on the lines in front of him, stylus tapping a beat on his arm that didn’t match the music. 

“What can I say, I like their passion.” His response was a tad late in coming, at least for Tony, and lacked all innuendo. His attention was on the design and that meant he was going to be worthless for anything but science(!) for at least another day. Possibly longer depending on just what he planned to have the thing be able to do. 

Darcy watching him work, her eyes on the man’s hands rather than the drawing. Once upon a time people used paper and pencil for this kind of thing. These days people used C++ or a stylus and drawing pad, but Tony wasn’t most people. Tony made an AI and had an entire lab practically lined in pinpoint lasers which crossed each other in such a way that the entire room seemed to be able to create the most amazing scenes. Being in Tony’s lab was like walking inside a computer monitor and realizing that you’d never really experienced 3D imaging before. 

The man’s hands were calloused, scarred, and had slightly knobby knuckles. He _used_ his hands, he built wondrous things which could have so easily been used for destruction and instead he takes a childlike joy in making sure they are used to save people. Defense rather than offense. Darcy personally believed Tony was one of the most badass people she would ever meet, _because_ he created weapons simply to figure out how best to use those weapons for something other than war. 

Iron Man was a perfect example. 

“Are you conducting odes to my wrists?” Tony asked, his voice jarring her from her thought process. 

“A sonnet about dirty nails, actually.” She shot back, an amused smirk on her face as Tony let out a bark of laughter. He was still in the zone, but he spared a glancing grin for the young woman. She preened a bit, swinging her feet back and forth like a child. She was totally his favorite, if only because Pepper didn’t count in this equation due to her being the velvet glove over Tony’s iron fist. They were simply a token pair one did not ever attempt to get between. Not unless they wanted an assassin, a petite astrophysicist, and a snarky, poli-sci lab administrator going for their throat. You didn’t fuck with any of the Avengers or their ladies, or said ladies would fuck up your day with a quickness. 

“She’s probably going to be gone for a while.” Tony commented a moment later, for some reason finding it easier to admit things like this to Darcy. He didn’t need to define who ‘she’ was, Tony had a strange fascination with the assassin and just a little bit of a need to protect her. It was something about her having worked for him (technically Pepper) for a short while. She wasn’t Natalie Rushman, but Natalie Rushman was still her, if that made sense to anyone other than the often manic genius. 

“Yeah, we’ll need to remember to feed and water Clint while she’s away.” Darcy noted, pursing her lips as she thought about it. 

“Alright, but I’d really prefer a choke collar for his walks, he’s always fighting the leash.” Tony grumbled, hunching over a bit so he could stare at a section. He could have shifted the entire image, but when Tony was a tired Tony he didn’t do things that made sense. Scratch that, he was Tony freaking Stark, he rarely did things which made sense to people who couldn’t think the way he did. 

“No choke collars, they always make me cringe. We’ll just get him a nice, sturdy harness and tell him to behave.” Darcy told him, waving a hand dismissively. Had anyone else been in on this conversation it would have turned lewd, Darcy or Tony would have made sure of it, but when it was just the two of them they didn’t bother putting in the effort. They already knew the other person’s brain was in the gutter beside them. Scary Brain Twins, Clint had once said. He might have been on to something, actually ...

“I am going to make this arm react to the electric pulses in his stump. It will respond to what his brain tells it to do.” Tony mentioned a moment later, glancing sideways at Darcy.

“So it will be like a real arm, kind of?” Darcy asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yep.” Tony nodded, focused back on the arm again. The girl debated between teasing him that it wouldn’t be nearly awesome enough if it was merely normal, but it was kind of awesome. Also she knew what kind of toys he was adding to it.

“Breaking into the medical field, are we?” She asked instead, decided he was too tired to deal with her brand of teasing. Tony didn’t say anything, instead he took the end of the arm and sent the entire drawing into a spin, flicking his wrist at the end so that it was suddenly spread out as layers of flat drawing. Sometimes, when he was quietly contemplating an incomplete masterpiece and not being needy, Darcy could admit that sometimes she was awestruck by the man. 

“That would imply starting off with a felony, wouldn’t it?” Tony asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Wouldn’t be your first.” The young woman shot back, smiling widely at his smug grin. 

“Apparently I’m supposed to be setting good examples now.” There was a rueful note in his voice that made the young woman cock a suspect eyebrow at him. Tony sniffed loudly and nodded once. “Yeah, you’re right.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder and laughed, Darcy joining in as he leaned against her and the two of them started imagining “Good Tony” 

“Oh man, that’s actually kind of terrifying,” Darcy agreed as their laughter calmed. 

“No, terrifying is having to play nice with Richards.” Tony muttered sighing as his eyes focused on the arm schematics which were still spread out before them. Darcy smiled a bit, watching the shoulders as they tensed up just a bit and the shoulders which hunched in. She continued to quietly watch as Tony rolled his shoulders and forced himself to relax. He wouldn’t have tensed at all if they weren’t in the labs, his safe place. 

“Who decided this?” Darcy asked curiously, her mind wandering back to the few instances where the Fantastic Four had been in the room with any number of Avengers. 

“Pepper and Sue got excited over something.” Tony waved a negligent hand and didn’t expand on the statement. He didn’t really need to, though. Sue and Pepper were friends, when you both loved a mostly single minded genius who had poor social skills you bonded. Though the poor social skills were opposite ends of the spectrum; Tony ignored others and forced them to pay attention to him and Reed ignored others and forced them to ignore him. 

“It might not be so bad, Reed comes part and parcel with the Fantastic 2.” Darcy offered, grinning as she swung her feet. Tony grunted noncommittally. Darcy lifted her foot and nudged at his hip with her toe until he turned to look at her again.

“Did you need something?” He demanded.

“A tazer that the flaming dick can’t easily destroy when I taze him in the balls.” She responded easily, her face calm. Tony blinked once, twice, and then again. 

“That is just …” His face screwed up in distaste. 

“An awesome idea?” Darcy offered, a grin spreading across her lips. 

“Mean.” He corrected her immediately.

“If you’re too busy I can talk to J about it.” Darcy continued, smirking just a bit. Now the man glowered a touch. 

“Stop using my AI for your own incredibly twisted deeds.” Tony cried, throwing his arms in the air and causing the arm designs to all fly away from him, leaving a blank void just behind him. When he turned back and saw this he sighed and shot a look over his shoulder to let Darcy know he considered this to be _her_ fault.


	5. Chapter 4: A Good Excuse To Be A Bad Influence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gearing up for visits from the Fantastic Four aka ... well you'll find out soon.

“What is this about the Fantastic Four coming to Avengers Tower? I thought we had agreed it was best not to force people to share their science toys.” Clint said, dropping into the chair beside her with a disgruntled look on his face. 

“It was Pepper’s idea, she and Sue had a moment.” Darcy shrugged, unconcerned for the most part. She’d already had a discussion with Phil. He was getting paperwork ready “just in case” and she was planning for the worst and hoping for at least a modicum of civility. Between the two of them they’d become the power couple of managing heroes. 

“And you just let them!?” Clint demanded, thinking of a few weeks ago when they had attempted to have Reed and Tony in the same room and it had ended with poisonous gas and a request for flame retardant evening wear. The Avengers usually took Tony’s side, the Four usually took Reed’s, and it usually left Phil and Darcy sighing in the center. Her Agent wandered off to deal with the Four and she took her team in hand, separating them out and shoving them in their own directions. 

Besides, Darcy had the feeling Tony needed Reed’s help for the arm. He wasn’t a biologist, and while he was a genius he didn’t have the experience to put together something like that without some help. Help like the kind Dr. Richards could provide. So long as the good doctor didn’t rub his titles in Tony’s face and start a giant contest on whose penis was bigger. Tony had the tower, Reed had the Baxter building. Tony had JARVIS, Reed had a space station of some sort. Tony had Pepper, Reed had Sue. Reed also had Johnny, who liked to hit on Pepper. And Darcy. And was smart enough _not_ to hit on Natasha once she gave him that unimpressed look. Maybe she could teach that look to Darcy. 

“Whatever, we get the Fantastic Two and we can just deal with Burning Man and the Rubber Egotrip as we need to. In fact, you’ll probably only have to deal with one of them at most. I’m the lucky girl who gets the whole kit and caboodle.” Darcy told him, pulling herself back to the conversation with Clint.

“I wonder if Tony finished the flame retardant arrows for me.” Clint mused, his eyes gazing somewhere in the distance as he idly scratched his chin. 

“It shouldn’t really matter, JARVIS and I are having Dum-E follow Johnny around with his fire extinguisher for the duration of their visits.” Darcy informed him, a small smile beginning to grow across her face.

“Dum-E isn’t exactly quick on his treads,” Clint mentioned after visualizing some of the outcomes between the robot and the superhero. 

“Mistah J and I have already had a discussion on that.” Darcy mentioned, her tone placid and her smile grinning. Clint cocked his head to the side and watched her for a few moments. 

“Sometimes you worry me.” Clint informed her after the short silences. She shrugged an eloquent shoulder, typing away at her computer.  
“Phil thinks I’m adorable.” She informed him, glancing from the corner of her eye.

“So does Natasha, that just makes my worry stronger.” He admitted, still staring at her. She turned her full attention on the archer, grinning a bit wider as he narrowed his own eyes at her.

“You adore me.” She informed him. His eyes narrowed more.

“I’m not sure there is an answer to that statement which will keep me out of trouble.” He admitted after a moment of thought. She winked at him and turned back to the computer.

“Go away, I have work to do.” She informed him, flicking her fingers in the direction of the door. Clint stood, backing away as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants.

“Does plotting world domination count as work, these days?” He asked, easily dodging the pencil she flung at him. He’d need to work with her on that aim. Not with guns, of course, they’d learned that lesson. 

Elsewhere in the city Phil was sitting calmly at a table, sipping his coffee and reading a report from an op in Brunei. It was eyes only, and for some reason when someone had mentioned the issues they had run into during the op, they had implied Coulson was not the eyes allowed to see it. So, of course, he had felt the need to retrieve said report and review it while Bucky was working out. 

“At the moment you seem a little more like a Bond villain than I like to admit.” Bucky informed him from where he was sweating in the corner using the salmon ladder. The precisely timed clang of the metal on metal matched the Beethoven concerto piping through the room, making an odd accompaniment for the classical piece. 

“I must admit,” Phil replied blandly, turning a page, “I’ve always wanted a cybernetically enhanced hench-person.” The super soldier paused, his arms half flexed as he went still in an unconscious display of just how strong his flesh arm was. Then again, it had to be if it was to keep up with his metal arm. 

“I would be a hench _man_ , thank you. I am very much something that would be categorized in a masculine fashion.” Bucky informed him after a moment, lifting himself up and popping the bar up to the next rung. 

“At SHEILD we strive for equality of sexes whenever possible. As such all of my answers will continue to be politically correct.” Phil continued, setting the file down and setting up his StarkPad. A few quick scans and the documents were copied for him to correct and notate upon in a nice shade of red which was reminiscent of fresh blood. He would need to discuss with Darcy her ability to finagle a new ink from Stark that wrote fresh red and, once it was a few weeks old, dried to the dull brick shade of a blood stain. That would get people hopping upstairs. 

And they thought Clint had just gotten past him all these years. 

“That dame of yours gonna bring us some of that coffee, again?” Bucky’s gruff voice broke across the music in the room a few moments later as Coulson slashed a finger across another section of the op report with the hint of a smirk. Darcy had won over the Winter Soldier with a wink and a mexican mocha from Harriet’s. Boy was he glad that shop had survived the Battle of New York. In fact, he ought to take Darcy there for a cup of coffee, just the two of them, sometime soon. 

“I’m not sure.” He wasn’t concerned though. Once the news that his death had been greatly exaggerated had come about, people seemed to be letting Darcy get away with more than she had apparently gotten away with before. He wasn’t sure if that was him or her or an odd mixture of both. A quick burst of affection spread through his chest at the thought of the saucy lady tazing Fury in the chest. In the man’s own office. 

“Not surprising. I’m starting to think that no one expects Miss Lewis.” Bucky admitted, starting to go back down the ladder.

“Like the Spanish Inquisition, but prettier.” Phil agreed, a grin on his lips. 

“In that case she might be spending too much time with assassins.” Bucky replied, his tone wry. 

“On the contrary, Mr. Buchanan, she’s been like that since long before she made their acquaintances.” Phil’s smirk was a touch smug now. He’d found her first, a woman with unquestionable morals, little patience for stupidity, and far more bravery than anyone unable to break a man’s neck in less than 36 ways should ever have.

“She’s a standup broad.” James agreed, a sound that was half chuckle and half grunt came from his corner as Phil nodded once and slashed a red mark through another section of the report, later he’d fill in what could have and should have been done. It was time to up the competency of their Level 5 agents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't given up! I've just been busy and the Lost Causes muse is vicious.


	6. Chapter 5: It’s A Pound Of Flesh, But It’s Really A Ton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you can't play nice anymore.

“Tony, come out of your lab right now!” Darcy shouted through the glass door, her face red with her ire as the music pulsed loudly through the room she was currently locked out of. One person had the override to the room and that person didn’t yet know he was sulking where Reed Richards was not invited. Pepper was not going to be amused. He didn’t turn around, even though she knew JARVIS was piping her demands into the room. Instead he picked up a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey and poured it into his coffee cup before taking a large swig. This couldn’t have been his first, either, from the way Dum-E was nervously pacing across the back wall where a partition had trapped him from spraying the genius with his handy dandy fire extinguisher. 

You know what, fuck it. _She_ was not amused any longer. If he wanted to get drunk and pout twenty minutes before Dr. Richards was supposed to show up simply because the other man had sent a list of what he apparently needed, she was going to treat him like a toddler having a temper tantrum. 

“JARVIS.” She asked, squaring her shoulders and glaring at the glass door.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?” The AI was being incredibly conciliatory at the moment. He knew what his master had done and he knew what his mistress was going to likely do and Miss Lewis was the one most likely to stop things from imploding between the two. 

“I would like you to institute fire measures in Tony’s lab.” She informed the AI, still staring inside of the lab. The complete silence following her request was the AI’s version of widening his eyes. “Give him a 30 second warning and then do it using override code 40 Alpha Pennsylvania 12.” 

The warning was given and Tony immediately killed the music and shot his own orders. JARVIS must have advised the override code, which Tony himself had okayed for Pepper in the most dire of emergencies. Darcy had been given the code months ago, but had never seen fit to use it as it overrode all of Tony’s own codes for his own good. 

“Ten seconds, Tony.” Darcy announced calmly, arms crossed over her chest as she watched him with narrowed eyes. The billionaire glared at her before grabbing the fire extinguisher from Dum-E and quickly unlocking the lab door to come outside. Two seconds later a red “No Entry” sign flashed in all of the walls as the air was sucked from the room. No oxygen, no fire. An elegant system, for all that it was also an incredibly deadly system.

“What the fuck was that!?” Tony demanded at her swinging the extinguisher from his hand as he shouted. Darcy cocked an eyebrow and took half a step forward, slamming her palm into the inside of his elbow to loosen his grip on the metal cylinder and the taking it away from him.

“That was me getting the job done. You will change and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes. Don’t make me call Pepper.” She informed him, done with his attitude for the day. She was already getting tense muscles in her back from the thought of dealing with Johnny Storm and knowing Clint was going to be antagonizing the other man whenever possible. 

“Richards has seen me worse than this, Lewis, I think he’ll survive.” Tony snarled, not caring in the least that he smelled of whiskey and sweat. It wasn’t an attractive scent. 

“Go. Change.” She repeated, not budging. She didn’t have to get stubborn and bossy with the genius often, he seemed to like her enough to just go along with what she wanted, but he was in a mood. It probably had something to do with having to share Pepper with Sue; he had failed that life lesson in kindergarten and no one had ever forced the understanding on him.

“No.” Tony was glaring at her, unimpressed with her ire and refusing to budge on pure principal. This was his tower, his labs, and his home, he didn’t have to do what anyone else said, Pepper included! Not when that officious Richards was already talking down to him and making mentions of “oh, yes, well certainly a good job for your level of understanding” his fucking level of understanding? He’d give the man a level of understanding.

“Fair enough.” Tony was enough in his own head that he didn’t notice Darcy pull the pin, unhook the nozzle, and point it at his grease stained pants. She sprayed him with the thick white foam, careful not to point it at his bare arms, stepping forward when Tony stepped back. 

“Go change, Tony.” Darcy informed him with a glower before turning on the ball of her foot and heading for the elevator. She had an archer to find and send away before he shot Johnny _before_ he did anything. Who knew, maybe the notorious pyrokinetic would behave for once. She sighed lightly, her shoulders slumping just a touch as the doors opened and she entered the elevator. Today sucked, and it was only nine in the morning. 

Tony, for his part, was watching the girl go, his mouth open in shock. He would come up with all kinds of witty one liners later to allude to her love of the sticky white substance she had sprayed all over him, but for now he was dismayed and grudgingly impressed. He was still watching, however, when she reached the elevator and deflated just a little. It made him feel like a heel, knowing that as stressed out as the young woman generally was, he was exacerbating it. Though it was definitely possible she was acting like that on purpose … she could handle it. You know, she _should_ handle it! If she thought he was bad now, she should probably talk to Pepper about how it used to be. 

He _would_ take a shower. A nice, long, hot shower. Followed by some more self grooming. It should only take him a few hours. The genius kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his pants, kicking them aside before heading to the elevators to go up to his own floor. 

Darcy must have been having an off day, she decided, because it took her the entirety of the elevator ride to realize Tony was going to pout for quite some time about what had just happen. As in, pouting today. As in, not coming down. Pepper was not going to be amused. She frowned for a moment and then whipped out her nifty Stark phone and sent off a quick text to Phil.

 _Darcy: This is your fault, you should have taught your mad scientist to share._

She tucked her phone into her bra and exited at the lobby, deciding there wasn’t actually enough time to treat herself with amazing coffee and would therefore simply stick to Starbucks, which happened to have a store attached to the SI lobby. She walked inside, her heels (three inches instead of Peppers’ towering five) clicking on the marble tiles. While she was generally a nice jeans and nice top kind of girl at work (she wrangled scientists, that was dirty work most of the time) she did enjoy dressing up now and then. Today, since it was kind of important, she had worn her favorite black pencil skirt with a very well fitted white blouse with short puffy sleeves and little black buttons shaped like hearts marching down the front. Thankfully she hadn’t gotten any of the crap she’d sprayed at Tony on her outfit, she could only imagine what might have been said at that point. 

“Miss Lewis, the usual?” The barista asked as Darcy came into view. Since there were four other people in front of her in line, the curvy brunette almost told her she could wait for her turn, but she wanted the coffee now, damnit, and a quin-shot venti white mocha sounded like heaven at the moment. 

“Yes, please. Put it on Stark’s account.” She usually paid for her own coffee, as well, but today she felt that her snarky friend had crossed a line and he could more than afford a seven dollar coffee. So there. Her phone beeped and she pulled it out, completely unfazed at doing so in a public venue. Bras were basically just extra pockets, after all, and her skirt, while pretty freaking flattering, didn’t have pockets of it’s own. She’d have to figure that out at some point. 

_Phil: I would offer to make him disappear but I am rather fond of Ms. Potts._

She grinned a bit and sent a quick _ditto_ in response before flipping through Reddit waiting for her drink. When her name was called (it was kind of fun being considered important enough that she got to skip the Stark Starbucks line, actually) she snagged the coffee and walked back out to the lobby, still scrolling as she stood just off to the left, behind where security was standing. Her phone buzzed again.

 _Phil: And you are rather fond of Stark._

She wrinkled her nose at the phone, disliking at the moment that Phil knew her so well. It was true though, and you know what? Tony liked her to, damnit! So did JARVIS and that one might actually be more important, come to think about it. One day she was positive he would be running the world. It might not be while she was still alive to see it, but there could be little Darcy-Phil progeny running around shooting people with laser guns, and if that was going to be so, she wanted J keeping an eye on them. Her phone buzzed again, distracting her from her internal segue.

 _Phil: That’s my favorite shade of red._ Her lips started to curl up, it was the only red thing about her, the lipstick. A deep, true red that had left the imprint of her lips on the lid of her coffee cup. Her thumb swiped across the keys in quick reply.

_Darcy: Creeper_

Dark blue eyes flicked at the time on the phone and then toward the wide glass doors of the building. Four people were stepping inside, why all four needed to be there, she wasn’t sure, but she took a calming breath and stepped forward toward security. 

“Sue, Ben, Dr. Richards, Mr. Storm, welcome to Stark Industries.” She announced, smiling brightly for Ben’s sake. He was her favorite. Gruff and no nonsense and a little self effacing, but since she was too she wouldn’t throw stones. Especially as he could throw bigger stones. Security passed over four badges to the guests and then Darcy took them to the elevator banks.

“Where are the stairs, kid?” Ben asked after staring at the line of elevators blankly for a moment.

“Around the corner to your right. Thankfully, though, all the elevators on our left have been upgraded to new specifications and will have no problem holding your weight.” Darcy replied, pressing the button. She didn’t bother telling him the rest were still being worked on and he would shortly have no issues whatsoever with his extreme density being lifted by thin(ish) cables. Her phone buzzed once more. 

_Phil: I believe Storm and I will be needing to have a talk._ Great, Phil was being a creeper while Johnny was being a creeper. This was going to be just awesome.


	7. Chapter 6: And let the fates collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry we haven't been working on this one lately. The muse ran away, but she has come back to visit so I'm going to work on this for all of you lovely people. - Ms D

Darcy sat cross legged on top of the empty desk in the back of Jane’s lab, idly flipping through an astronomy magazine. Her back was against the wall, earbuds pumping one of her playlists directly into her brain, her hair piled on top of her head with a forgotten pen poking out from the side, and every time she turned a page she blew a bubble with her gum. She’d dressed down for day three of the Fantastic Invasion, wearing her favorite pair of converse, well worn jeans (complete with holes in both knees from wear, not fashion) and one of Phil’s work shirts with the sleeves rolled up above her elbows and a ribbed tank top showing off a good bit of cleavage underneath. 

Currently the girl was on strike from dealing with either Tony or Reed and, as such, had relocated herself to the lab next door, hoping it was close enough that the boys wouldn’t look there first. Jane had then gotten the genius idea to slap a hand made sign to the outside of the door stating “no boys allowed!” and then added “this means you, Thor” at the bottom to make people think it was a lovers quarrel. It meant Tony was a lot less likely to come and ask the petite astrophysicist any questions, he hated crying females. The sign also had the added benefit of completely confounding their resident Asgardian and was helping him bond with the Earth guys in the common misunderstanding of females.

A ball of crumpled paper landed on the table next to her and the brunette pulled one of her earbuds out. Her eyes traced the trajectory to her best friend, and she raised a single eyebrow. She’d been practicing that maneuver in the mirror, it was getting easier and she was going to use the shit out of it once perfected. You could provide so much wordless commentary with just a single raised eyebrow. Natasha said it was one of her most versatile weapons. 

“Who are we mad at, again?” Jane asked. Apparently she had come up from science and now needed validation that she was a good friend. Thankfully, she was her best friend and Darcy got that mad scientists did things a little differently. Also that they didn’t really listen when you were explaining things if there was a question that needed the answer discovered.

“No one, we’re just done with them for today.” Darcy replied with a shrug, flipping the page. 

“Not even Johnny?” Jane asked, a little disappointed by that. She actually liked the cocky youngest member of the Fantastic Four, and explaining that she had to be mad because he was being ungentlemanly to her best friend somehow made him be overly gallant to everyone. No one understood his affection for the petite scientist, though Darcy had a theory that something about her reminded him of Sue, possibly. 

“If he’s done something it hasn’t involved anything I am responsible for, so no.” Darcy narrowed her eyes at the other woman so that she knew any digging into _that_ situation would just piss off her friend. Not that she’d ever successfully held a grudge against Jane. She had put forth the effort once or twice, but it lasted a few hours and then Jane would do something like get a glob of jelly stuck to her cheek like a toddler, or recite all of the ingredients used in the making of pop tarts alphabetically. She was just too darling of a human being, at times. 

“But we are still alright with Richards being here, right?” Jane asked, raising both eyes inquisitively. Darcy closed the magazine and nodded slowly. 

“I mean, are we ever happy that he invades? No. However he is here for Bucky and Bucky getting better makes Phil happy, so I am okay with him because in a roundabout manner he is making Phil happy.” And above all else she liked having Phil happy. Thankfully he liked having Darcy happy so it worked well all around in her way of thinking. 

A quick rap of the knuckles on the ceiling had both women looking up. Clint smiled and then dropped from the open section above them, landing in a light crouch with a box of chinese takeout in his hands. Darcy’s lips twitched up into a grin. 

“I was hoping you guys wouldn’t mind me sneaking into your super secret hideout.” The archer drawled as he set the box on the counter. The ladies could see the white folded lids peaking out from above the brown cardboard. They didn’t ask how Clint had managed to get it into the vents without alerting others to the smell as his usually explanation was “magic” instead of anything useful that would help them do it themselves. 

Well, not that Darcy was up in the ceiling all that often. Just a couple times, really, all of which were with Clint himself. As far as she knew Jane had never bothered going up, herself. 

“Orange chicken?” Phil asked as he came up behind Darcy, his hand smoothing over her hip as he walked around her to the food. It was a subconscious gesture of affection and Darcy smiled to herself. 

Part of her was waiting for the other shoe to drop. They’d fought about moving in together (too dangerous according to Phil,) then Fury had pretended he was dead, Darcy had moved in with the Avengers (mostly with Jane,) Phil had been rescued from babysitter purgatory, and now they were living together. The crazy year they’d had apart had let them get past arguments that seemed stupid from where they could see things now, but they’d had those fears. 

Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to enjoy the honeymoon phase while she had it. If that mean gestures and random kisses and surprise coffee, even better. Jane took the mushu pork and wandered back to her desk, ignoring the other three as she started scribbling furiously in a notebook. A Science(!) thought had occurred and the rest of them were now invisible. 

“What do we need to do for Natasha when she comes back?” Darcy asked, her voice calm and quiet just in case Jane wasn’t as fully entranced as she seemed. 

“She’ll come back and barricade herself in her rooms.” Clint informed her, not actually answering her question. 

“Sharpen her knives, clean her suite, clean her clothes, and wait to heal. I know all that. I want to know what we need to do for her.” Darcy informed him, unimpressed look on her face. 

“We will need to assess her medical needs. She won’t go to Med without direct orders and even then she doesn’t like it.” Phil advised her, downplaying her almost hatred of the med team. 

Darcy started eating her sesame chicken, turning over this information in her mind. Phil and Clint never forced Natasha to do anything, which meant she was likely to be severely injured coming back. She wasn’t surprised, though. Natasha was in pain over James and she couldn’t let that pain be seen. So instead she went somewhere where she could let someone give her enough physical pain to get over that emotional pain. The brunette couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to have the man she loved so much not even recognize her. 

The implications here was staggering, considering Natasha’s own enhanced healing factors. She wasn’t as impressive as James and Steve, but it was far better than the average person. It was part of what made her so good at the backwards interrogation. It was why she was so scary to those who couldn’t understand her, couldn’t see that the woman _did_ feel, but wouldn’t let those emotions out to be manipulated or judged by those who didn’t know her. 

“How is Bucky doing?” Darcy asked, changing the subject. 

“Better than expected. It seems like his memories tend to be visually and verbally triggered. The combination makes it harder, at times, but it is working.” Phil sighed a bit as he contemplated the other man for a moment. 

“Stark and Reed are working on a new arm, right?” Clint asked, shoveling food into his mouth like he was afraid it was going to be taken away. It spoke of an unsure childhood and a lack of trust in those around him. Understandable given when little she actually knew of his past. His childhood hadn’t been happy. To be fair, though, none of the Avengers had happy childhoods. Not even Thor, really. It was that hurt turned into an intense fire to help that made them all so extraordinary. 

“Yes, and taking turns making remarks that prove one is smarter than the other.” Darcy’s nose twitched in annoyance, a tell that Phil found particularly endearing. “So I sent Thor in to extol on the supreme intelligence that is his lady-love and came to hang out with the genius herself.” 

“It helps that Thor actually follows all of their conversations. He’s not exactly stupid, himself.” Clint added, grinning at her methods. Phil made a small hum that meant he found the method intriguing and would likely pay attention to the outcome. It was funny how often people underestimated the Prince. He was jovial and blonde and good looking. For some reason people wanted to equate that with stupidity. It was their loss. 

“Ms Darcy, if I may?” Jarvis asked in an apologetic tone, interrupting their conversation. 

“Always and forever, my binary soulmate.” Darcy said around a mouth full of a food. 

“I do believe that Mr. Storm and Thor have taken it upon themselves to test how well their powers might work together in the lab. For Science, I am told.” The weary note in that last sentence was completely understandable and Darcy swallowed her food, set down the carton and chopsticks, dropped an absentminded kiss on Phil’s head and walked away, asking Jarvis for details. 

“Combo attacks would be awesome.” Clint mentioned after a moment, looking at Phil. 

“If you want an arrow that shoots lightning you will have to take that up with Thor or Tony.” The older man advised after a long moment of silence. “You’ll also have to take care of your own paperwork in regards to damage done to self, facility, and civilians if needed.” He added before popping another piece of chicken into his mouth. 

“Worth it.” Clint smirked, leaning back in the chair so the two could eat in comfortable silence while watching Jane flit about the lab, her own food now forgotten.


	8. Chapter 7: You Make Me Home Again

Natasha’s return was unmarked by anyone but Phil, Clint, and Darcy. She came in quietly, enacting privacy protocols with Jarvis, and went straight to her room. Phil, of course, had been waiting for her to come back and was notified by Maria. Clint and Darcy were with him so they were both informed as well. Despite the young woman’s need to be there for her friend, she understood she couldn’t do anything to really help her. Her partner and her handler were what she needed, even if Steve was her partner more often than not these days. 

Phil knocked on the assassin’s door once and it slid open. Clint moved around him to pick up the blood stained clothes that had been dropped in a path to the woman’s bathroom, dropping them into a bag he’d brought with him. They would be put in the incinerator rather than cleaned. No evidence. 

The handler moved into the bathroom where the naked Russian was calmly twisted to clean the scraped bruise over her ribs. She stopped, allowing Phil to take over. She had known they would come. They always came if they were there. She’d allowed them entrance to her space via Jarvis, quite an allowance for a woman who valued privacy above almost all else and hated anyone seeing her in a weakened state. However this was Phil and Clint. They were the closest thing she had to a family, and they had seen her in far worse conditions and never treated her differently because of it. 

Phil cleaned her wounds, wrapped the obviously bruised ribs which may have actually been cracked, splinted her swollen wrist, and put ointment on her cracked, but no longer bleeding, fingernails. Clint came in and carefully dried the woman’s red hair and helped her pull on a loose pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt with a picture of a spider on the front Darcy had gotten her. 

Afterwards the two men tucked her into her bed and took up position in her room to keep watch. Their presence allowed Natasha to sleep fully. They would defend her until she was better capable of defending herself. The woman fell into an exhausted sleep, despite the pain of her body, which still hadn’t surpassed the pain in her heart. 

Elsewhere Darcy was fidgeting. It was after midnight and Phil and Clint hadn’t come back. She’d gotten a text letting her know they were staying with the other woman for the night and Darcy didn’t mind, but she hadn’t spent a night without Phil since his return. Instead of tossing and turning or dealing with her emotions she’d decided baking was the thing to do and had made a couple dozen strawberry muffins.

She pulled the muffins out of the pan and tossed them in a basket to take them to someone she knew would still be awake. She walked down the hall, completely at ease in her cookie monster pants and a shirt she’d pilfered from Clint. Three raps on the door and it slid open with a quizzical looking James Barnes on the other side. 

“I made muffins!” She chirped, bright smile on her face as she walked in and he looked down the hall before following her. 

“Thank you.” He told her after a pause, glancing at her and then at the basket. He had only recently been allowed to have visitors to his rooms, rooms that had only been his for a handful of weeks. They were still a cage, but far better than his previous ones, and slowly he was gaining more freedom, though he was afraid of some of them. Afraid of what he might be or do. 

“Phil and Clint had business tonight so I had some free time.” She informed him, the bright smile flashing across her face again, but not dispelling the trace amounts of distress in her eyes. Darcy was perhaps the least dangerous woman in the tower based on her own merits, at least physically. On the other hand she was perhaps the most dangerous because something in her drew others to her, gaining their trust and affection, and those people were quite dangerous. 

He picked up a muffin in his metal hand, allowing the sensors in his fingers to run a quick diagnostic. No poisons. He took a bite and chewed slowly, contemplating the flavors on his tongue. Darcy took a seat, a fond smile slowly spreading across her face as she watched him. He took another bit and then ate the rest of the large muffin quickly, blinking at her. 

“It was very good.” He told her with a nod. 

“I noticed you don’t seem to like the overly sweet treats, so I crushed the strawberries a bit and baked it in so I could cut out a lot of the sugar and still keep it kind of sweet and kind of tart.” She grinned, proud of herself. She had a lot of smiles, Bucky noted. He’d been slowly categorizing them when she came around, just as he categorized Phil’s microexpressions. She had a total of seven she saved purely for Phil, there were likely more, though. 

“The business is Natasha?” Bucky asked after a moment, surprising himself with the question. He had very little interaction with the woman, but she was always there, always in his peripheral and watching him. Darcy’s smile disappeared and her lips tightened. With many it was the eyes that gave them away, but with this woman it was her mouth. 

“She just got back from a mission. They’re debriefing.” She told him, handing him another muffin. He took it, wondering why she was lying. They were not debriefing. However Steve had mentioned Natasha was on a mission and hadn’t seemed worried about it. The woman in the shadows. Steve didn’t like to talk about her, seemed to only bring her up if Bucky asked a question specifically in regards to her. Phil and Darcy were more open about the woman. 

_She watched him from the shadows, just as she always did. Waiting to pounce, waiting for a moment when it would be the two of them, locked in a silent moment the rest of the world couldn’t intrude upon._

James cleared his throat and blinked as he took a bite of muffin. It wasn’t the first time he’d had a flash of red hair and intense eyes. Her lush curves drawing his gaze as she lifted her chin in silent challenge. She didn’t speak to him, though. Kept a distance he didn’t understand and couldn’t find the words to defy. 

“I have a question.” He said after a few moments of comfortable silence. 

“I might have an answer, ask away.” She made a grand gesture for him to continue. It amused him and he noted that he should maybe smile, but the moment passed and he moved on. 

“Why did you look for him when you knew he was dead?” Bucky didn’t blame Steve, but he wondered, sometimes, if Steve would have done the same thing if he’d had the time. If he hadn’t faced the idea of possibly giving up to save the world. Steve didn’t have the strength of the woman before him, but then Bucky was reasonably sure no one did. 

“It was like a dream, you know?” Darcy told him, a grin playing around her mouth as she grabbed a napkin and began to run it through her fingers. “Phil was everything I didn’t understand I needed, and then when I figured it out I had already lost him.” She took a deep breath and heaved out a sigh as her head tipped back and she tried sort through her thoughts. 

“But his death didn’t feel real. Losing him hurt, but it didn’t feel permanent. It was like a dream I was chasing, and I knew if I closed my eyes at just the right moment, when I opened them back up he’d be there. You can’t lose a dream. Phil is my dream made reality. He had to be there, I couldn’t exist without him.” She shrugged, her smile going crooked as she wrinkled her nose in embarrassment. “It’s not a very good explanation, I know, but it’s all I’ve got.” 

“I see.” His brows furrowed as he contemplated her answer and the idea of dreams. His fractured brain was full of memories and dreams and things that may have been, but weren’t. However if love was a dream made flesh, perhaps some of them were real? It would require more thought. 

Darcy left a short while later, leaving the muffins on his table, and James went back to his room. He wasn’t allowed to wander the halls without an approved companion and therefore stayed put. He laid out on his bed, eyes on the ceiling, and thought of soft, red hair, bright, intelligent eyes, and a pounding heart that was against all of the training they had both been forced through. All the images were fleeting and incomplete, but he _knew_ her.


End file.
